We Are Broken
by ffic4life
Summary: It wasn't possible that one so strong could be so weak. No, Kurt refused to accept it. If Noah was broken, as he sure seemed, then it was his job to put him back together again.
1. None Of This Should Have Ever Happened

**Title:** We Are Broken  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Slash, Romance/Angst/Tragedy  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Glee Cast Ensemble  
><strong>Character Pairing:<strong> Puck/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It wasn't possible that one so strong could be so weak. No, Kurt refused to accept it. If Noah was broken, as he sure seemed, then it was his job to put him back together again.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Dark Themes, Non-Con, OOC, Attempted Suicide…General Sad-Depressing-Stuff with eventual happiness  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> As much as I wish I did, I don't own Glee or any of the people associated with it. Sigh. Furhter, I apologize to anyone this story may offend. I would never make light of rape or any form of sexual abuse, and this story is intended to do so.  
><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> I was listening to the song quoted below and this story just came to me. I have a thing for Puck angst, I know. My story "Someone Like You," proves that; but I can't help the fact that he's just a character that begs to be written vulnerable since he rarely breaks his shell on screen. This story is going to be probably be a long one. Sigh again. If only Glee were mine...

.

_"Keep me safe inside_

_Your arms like towers_

_Tower over me, yeah_

_'Cause we are broken_

_What must we do to restore_

_Our innocence?_

_And oh, the promise we adored_

_Give us life again_

_'Cause we just wanna be whole"_

**"We Are Broken," Paramore - Riot!**

_**Prologue~ None of This Should Have Happened**_

Noah wonders how lives get chosen.

How paths get found.

How futures get destroyed and taken away.

Cause to him, lying on his hospital bed, he just can't seem to figure out how it's fair. How all of his friends get to be happy, but he will forever be scarred…_dirty_. Damaged goods.

How it's fair that _they _will be able to get up in the morning and think about things like what they want for breakfast, how well they did on a test, whether or not they're girlfriend or boyfriend will bring them a surprise just to remind them of their love…and how every morning _he's_ going to be thinking about things like whether or not the rest of the world can tell what happened to him, how to avoid being touched by someone in case they can, why there is a scar across the lower part of his abdomen and how well he can hide it from everyone.

He used to look forward to things like football and glee.

Now he's going to be looking forward to getting home, getting _away _from school and everything involved with it because it's just too much. Too many people, too many questions, too many accidental brushes of sleeves and too many corners to turn without know who's around it.

How is it fair?

Sure. He hasn't always been the nicest of people, but he's never been a-a _monster _on purpose.

And yeah. He's slept with a lot of people, but he's never _forced _someone for anything.

Fuck! He's never even forced his sister to change a TV channel, let alone forced them to-to have…

He can't even think the word.

He's curled in on himself, fetal position, as if that could make the world fade away. He knows it won't help but it doesn't hurt to try. It just hurts _everywhere _else, and being in a ball only makes it worse but somehow it's safer.

Earlier he caught a glimpse of his face even though someone tried to shield the mirror. He looks like a boxing champ fresh off a fight. Deep colored bruises littering his once tan, smooth skin. Scrapes and cuts around his lips and eyes from blows of the fists and floor. He almost broke down when the thought of how much he wished that the reason he looked so ugly was because he was impersonating Muhammad Ali.

Ugly. That's what he was.

Ugly. Disgusting. Dirty. Damaged. Used.

His eyes leak a few stray tears, but that's all he allows himself. He may be all of those things, but he can't cry. Crying makes it real, and he'd prefer to keep pretending for a while that he was going to wake up and find it was all a sick dream.

Unconsciously his eyes search the small room for his savior.

Kurt.

The one who found him in a pool of his own blood, unable to get up and barely able to speak. The thought makes him sick, and he forces himself to not retch any more than he already has. How could this happen? Why now? When things were finally starting to look up, when he was _finally_ at the point of getting what he wanted…he gets-he gets.

He bites his lip to hold in his sob. No. He can't cry, he _won't _cry. He's stronger than that.

Or at least he _thought _he was.

Kurt must have heard movement from him, so he turned, and did his best not to react to the sight. Noah closes his eyes, ugly. He's so ugly Kurt doesn't want to even look at him anymore. He wants to tell the counter-tenor to leave. To just leave him alone, that he doesn't have to pretend, that he understands how hard it was to stomach the pathetic-ness he's become. That he understands he's weak, but if Kurt would just leave so he could be weak_ alone._

Yet, he can't because he feels safer with him there, and the irony of that isn't lost on him. He's just choosing to ignore it. And Kurt's there, standing by the door, silently watching him as if asking permission to step closer. And Noah can't it hold in that time, the sob from his chest.

Kurt shouldn't have to ask whether or not it's okay to touch him, Kurt shouldn't be afraid of how he would react to being touched. All he wants is for Kurt to hold him, tell him that he's beautiful in spite of everything, that he loves him no matter what and they would get through it…but he can't have that.

He's never going to have that again. He knows it. He's tainted now, how would Kurt want someone like him?

And the last thought he has before finally losing his resolve and breaking down into tears is...

None of this should have happened.

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! _ffic 3_**


	2. IAmOutsideWhileYou'reWaitingForTheSun

**Title:** We Are Broken  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Slash, Romance/Angst/Tragedy  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Glee Cast Ensemble  
><strong>Character Pairing:<strong> Puck/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It wasn't possible that one so strong could be so weak. No, Kurt refused to accept it. If Noah was broken, as he sure seemed, then it was his job to put him back together again.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Dark Themes, Non-Con, Attempted Suicide…General Sad-Depressing-Stuff with eventual happiness  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> As much as I wish I did, I don't own Glee or any of the people associated with it. Sigh.  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Sorry this took so long. It' pretty short, but I hope you like it anyway! Let me know what you think!

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_**Chapter 1~I Am Outside While You're Waiting For the Sun**_

_**Seven Months Ago**_

_*He was late, that was all he had time to think about while bursting through McKinley's doors and rushing to his locker. How could he be so dumb as to forget to check his alarm clock? He always checks his alarm clock, it was a 'Kurt unwritten rule.' And even more than that, he didn't have time to finish his morning coffee so he was in for a long day of caffeine headaches and snippy remarks. His friends would just have to deal._

_He makes it to his locker; not even paying attention to the photo of Blaine posted in his locker, as he rummages through his books and finds his binder for Calculus. Argh, but he hated that class. Just as he was about to slam his locker shut and hurry down the hall before the bell rang, someone (meaning Karofsky) shoulder checked him into the lockers sending the papers in his binder flying all around. _

_He growls as he himself hits the floor, and sends a murderous glare towards the back of his bully. He starts to try and pick up his papers, rushing to do so as they all get mixed up from their original order, making him even more frustrated and grumbling. Suddenly, he feels someone bend to next him. He prepares himself for more torment only to find a tan hand holding a stack of his papers. _

_Looking up, it's none other than Noah Puckerman, who gives him a soft smile. "Hey, Kurt," he says as the boy takes the papers, before he bends down to pick up the last one._

"_Hello, Noah," he replies with an air of calm. "Thank you for the help, but I must be on my way, so…" He lets it hang in the air, fully expecting the Jewish teen to give over the paper, to move, to do something other than smile and nod like an idiot. Okay, so what was going on? One bully keeping with the status quo and the other crossing the lines? Feeling a little annoyed at the boy's slowness and worried about the possibility of a detention slip, Kurt huffs, "Noah?" with a significant tone._

_The tan man with the umber eyes, just smiles, awaiting whatever he has to do say with an easy air of confidence. Kurt blushes, biting back the urge to give a nervous laugh. _

"_Noah, I need to go to class now," and that seems to snap the other out of his trance. Nodding vigorously and stepping to the side, letting Kurt have the last paper in his hand only to let him pass. _

_On the way, Kurt can't help but glance back; and was greatly surprised to see Noah watching him. _

_Noah?_

_It's Puck. _

_Just like it's _justPuck_ being his usual weird self.*_

Kurt comes out of his daze as he hears Puck begin to stir. After his…well, after _Noah_ had finally broken down and Kurt did his best to comfort him – even as the teen Jew refused to let him get too close – he had fallen asleep. Which was probably due to several factors, but the tears helped him tire himself quicker than the drugs. It's given the counter-tenor time to think. Time to remember.

He can't believe that seven months ago he wrote this beautiful man off as a non-issue…a nothing. It makes his heart ache like he betrayed the person in front of him somehow. Couldn't he see, even then, how he felt? The pale boy wonders if they would be here now if he had. If somehow in the sick, twisted universe it's _his fault. _

He knows it isn't, but that doesn't seem to make him feel better.

Bleary, hazel eyes blink open, unfocused. He can tell Noah is trying to figure out where he is, so he sits still. Waiting for the storm to come.

"Kurt?" the voice is scared and imploring. "Kurt, w-where-…"

"Shh," hushes, coming back into the Jew's line of vision. Sitting down, he puts his hand on the bed close but not close enough to touch him. Noah Shivers and pulls his blanket a little higher, the fear having not left his eyes. "I haven't gone anywhere, baby." Kurt's voice is thick with emotion he keeps in check, watching Noah's eyes turn cold.

He flinches and looks away, whispering, "You shouldn't call me that."

"Why not?" the counter-tenor replies just as softly.

"Because I'm not your baby," It was blunt, but filled with sadness, not malice.

Kurt's heart clenched and he shut his eyes. There wasn't exactly a rule book on what to say to a-a _rape _victim that was sort of, but not really your boyfriend. Then again, he hadn't checked with Miss Pillsbury, there probably was. He knew enough to know that Noah was going to try and push him away, knew enough to know that Noah was going to blame himself, definitely knew enough to know never to leave him alone…particularly with anything sharp in easy reach. But what was he supposed to say about _that _comment.

Noah was right. They weren't actually together before, but they were close. They had been gearing up to go on a date. They had been within an inch of each other to share a kiss…all the couple-y things pointed to they were together. But then again, maybe Noah shouldn't be thinking at all about stuff like that. Maybe Kurt was scaring him, which is the LAST thing he wants to do. So he settles on, "Maybe not, but maybe someday soon."

Noah flinched again, turning his face further into the bed from his curled position. "When can I go home?"

Kurt sighs, "You're coming home with us. The doctors just wanted to wait until you woke up. While you were asleep my dad aligned all the paper work up to be your guardian until you turn eighteen in eight months."

Noah's eyes were blank as he nodded.

Kurt was still unsure of all of the details about it – and wondering if maybe that wasn't good thing, since he could barely hold down his lunch after finding him like-like…he shuts his eyes and curses the images and bile away. He knew Noah had been having some problems at home. His dad returned, his mom was back to drinking, his sister went to live with his aunt because she didn't like their dad, and he was alone. The pale boy had noticed Noah slowly drawing back from their friends, but when they were together it was fine. So he never let himself think it was anything serious, until…

"I want to get out of here, Kurt," Puck whispers, eyes not meeting his.

Kurt bites his lip to hold in his sob for the beautiful and broken man in the bed and nods his head. "Okay, let me let the doctor know and text my dad to get the car."

With that he stood up, missing the longing look in Noah's eyes as the Jew watches his pale hand leave its comforting spot on the bed. Noah felt like his sunshine was leaving, along with Kurt.


End file.
